


I like the way you let me lead you (When we go outside and walk)

by Thunder_Cakes



Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: Fluff, M/M, that's literally it lol, the boys get a dog
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-12
Updated: 2020-10-12
Packaged: 2021-03-08 03:35:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,124
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26965255
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thunder_Cakes/pseuds/Thunder_Cakes
Summary: David's feeling broody.“I just…” One of David’s hands escapes to flail around his face. “I guess I’m realizing that I want to add to our little family. Like we’re missing a little piece.”“Are you talking about looking for a third? I know it’s been awhile since we’ve invited Jake over, but—““No, no, no. Honey no. Jake is hung like a horse and has a mouth like a Hoover and we should absolutely give him a call soon, but that’s not what I mean.”
Relationships: Patrick Brewer/David Rose
Comments: 9
Kudos: 122





	I like the way you let me lead you (When we go outside and walk)

**Author's Note:**

> Here there be self-indulgent fluff and little else 
> 
> title is from "Man of the Hour" by Norah Jones

David is feeling broody. 

It took him awhile to figure out what this feeling was, but that’s it. Broody. 

He finds himself in empty moments where Patrick is at the store, wanting someone to talk to, laugh with. And for the first time in a while, that urge isn’t for his husband. When he lays in the couch, back pressed against Patrick’s chest, his own arms feel a little empty. He looks around their spotless kitchen at the end of the night and it feels too quiet. He stares at an empty spot by the front window at the store and something feels missing. 

David’s yearning for something he can’t describe and it terrifies him. He hasn’t felt this way since his family moved back to the States. His life has been so full for years and suddenly something is _missing._

He knows he’s not dissatisfied. Life with Patrick is borderline blissful, most days. He has everything he didn’t know he needed and is happier than he’s ever been or knew he could be. 

So what is he looking for? 

He’s only beginning to figure it out when Patrick catches him sitting at the kitchen island, tapping the table with his well manicured nails and staring into the backyard. 

Patrick wraps a hand around his bicep on greeting before moving to the fridge. 

“What is it?”

David glances up and away, mouth screwing to the side. He can’t hide anything from Patrick for long. “I don’t know.”

Patrick peeks around the fridge door with one eyebrow raised. 

David caves almost immediately. “I’m missing something.” 

Patrick chuckles and turns back to pulling Ingres for dinner. “I told you, we’ll stop and get mall pretzels tomorrow, David. I promise.” 

“No, I…” David shakes his head. “I think we’re missing something. Like, in life.” 

Something in Patrick’s eyes shutters before he shakes himself and moves to David’s side, setting the makings of his mom’s lasagna on the counter in front of them. “You mean we as in the store? Or the house? Or us as... as a couple?”

David’s mouth twists as he thinks, flitting from a frown to a smirk and back before he bites his lips together and shakes his head. “All of the above?”

Familiar hands reach out to still David’s where they’re flexing and sliding against the island. 

“David,” Patrick’s voice has taken on the false calm he thinks his husband can’t see through. He’s wrong. “a-are we okay? H-have I missed something? I thought we were good. Great, even.”

“Oh!” David gasps, turning his hands over to grip Patrick’s. “No, no honey we’re wonderful. You’re incredible and perfect. We are so good. That’s not it at all.”

Patrick’s shoulders relax as he nods, still eyeing David warily. “Okay. Then I guess I’m confused about what we’re talking about then.”

“I just…” One of David’s hands escapes to flail around his face. “I guess I’m realizing that I want to add to our little family. Like we’re missing a little piece.”

“Are you talking about looking for a third? I know it’s been awhile since we’ve invited Jake over, but—“

“No, no, no. Honey no. Jake is hung like a horse and has a mouth like a Hoover and we should absolutely give him a call soon, but that’s not what I mean.”

Patrick snorts but just nods, encouraging him to keep going. 

“I just... I think I want something for us to take care of?” He throws his shoulders back and gives a half hearted shimmy. “I’m feeling weirdly nurturing lately.”

“Mmm yes,  _ nurturing  _ is the word I would use for the way you shooed that toddler in the store yesterday,” Patrick smirks. 

David snatches his hands back, huffing. “She was  _ sticky _ and dangerously close to the feline knit scarves.” 

“So you don’t mean a baby,” Patrick squints at his husband, knowing him better than that. 

“Oh god no!” David shudders. “Can you imagine?” Patrick can, but doesn’t say it. “I guess I’m thinking more like... a pet? Maybe a dog?” David cringes into himself, still expecting rejection after all these years. 

But Patrick, sweet, loving, perfect Patrick just lights up in response.

“Really?!” He seems to take a moment to temper himself, knowing his reaction could tip David’s often delicate scales. “A puppy, David? Are you sure? Animals are messy.”

David rolls his eyes, but the grin fighting his lips is clear. “Yes, Patrick. I am aware that dogs poop. I lived through the tiny purse dog era. I saw many a Louis ruined by a yorkie with too much caviar. I will not be carrying our dog in any designer handbags and as I was hoping to get an adult dog that comes potty trained, we can avoid undue damage to our rugs.”

Patrick snorts. David knows he’s thinking about all the damage that will come to their rugs and furniture and probably their _walls_ too good God, but he’s not saying anything. Any other person should be lecturing David right now. His parents, Alexis, his exes, friends from another life, even Stevie. They’d be going on about what a huge responsibility this is, walking and feeding and vet visits. He can hear the reprimand now _This isn’t like the people you can just throw away when you tire of them. Are you sure you’re ready to take care of another life?_

But not Patrick. Never Patrick. Patrick who listened to him ramble about his dream and saw the possibilities just as clearly as David did. Patrick who, as much as he teases, knows how devoted David is to their store, how seriously he takes their business. Patrick who shares David’s life, and knows he’d never take on another’s lightly. Patrick just snorts and smiles, lifting their hands to press a kiss to David’s knuckles. David loves him more than he can say. 

“Yeah, babe. Let’s get a dog.”

  
  


* * *

David researches breeds and trolls local breeders’ websites, looking for the perfect dog to add to their home.

Patrick practically lives on Pet Finder and falls in love with every mutt with a tragic backstory he lays eyes on. 

David asks their bedding vendor if she’s ever considered making dog beds and starts an Etsy wish list of collars and toys (but never dog clothes because contrary to what Paris and Nikki tried to convince him in 2005, dogs in pleated skirts are _incorrect_ ).

Patrick collects numbers and addresses for the local vets, groomers, pet stores and adoption shelters; hoarding business cards in his bedside table like a hope chest. 

David forwards Patrick links to profiles of hypoallergenic terriers and schnauzers. 

Patrick texts him screenshots of grinning greyhounds, with bios about being rescued from exploitation.

“I don’t want a tiny dog, David. I thought you didn’t want to put them in your purse?”

“Well, _Patrick,_ I don’t want a dog that runs faster than me.”

“That kind of disqualifies all dogs, babe.”

“Uh, rude!”

“Just being honest.”

* * *

In the end, it’s Stevie who settles it for them, because of course she does. 

“All dogs are good dogs, David!” She snaps, tired of their bickering interrupting their weekly brunch at the café. “They don’t need a certificate to be worthy of you.”

David scoffs, head reeling back in offense. He scowls at Patrick’s smug smirk. 

“And you!” Stevie whirls on him as well. “All dogs are good dogs Patrick. It’s great that you want to give a home to one in need but that doesn’t make them better than any other dog.”

Patrick’s squints and returns David’s frown. 

“Now, why you aren’t just getting a cat anyway when you have the perfect store for it is a mystery to me.” 

David jerks his thumb at his husband and mouths _allergic_ and rolling his eyes. Patrick slaps his hand down with an eye roll of his own. 

“If you two are done,” she says archly. “Tomorrow we will go to Elmdale and check out the local shelters in person. Pet some pups, maybe I’ll cry over a cat. No pressure, it’ll be fun. Next week we’ll go see a couple of the breeders David’s been stalking on Instagram. _Then_ you can talk about where your minds are. Understood?” She glares at both of them. They nod silently, eyeing each other and her warily. “Good. You two make everything so unnecessarily complicated, I swear to God.” 

* * *

They never make it to the breeders. They never even make it to the second shelter.

While Stevie talks herself in and out of adopting a fat ten year old cat named Oreo, David watches Patrick coo over every dog in every stall he comes across. He’s heard every variation of “who’s a good boy?” he could imagine and a few he never would have. It is annoyingly adorable. 

David came reluctantly, but is pleasantly surprised. The facility was clean and cheery. A touch peppier than he’d prefer, but he guesses that makes sense when you’re trying to sell pets to families. The animals all looked well bathed and fed, even the sicker ones seemed optimistic, like they knew they’re on the mend. It was probably time to admit his only context for animal shelters being the dog catcher Lady & The Tramp was probably incorrect. Not out loud though, Stevie would never let him live it down. 

“What about this one, David?” Patrick grins over his shoulder from where he’s crouched on the floor. “He’s only four years old and has the sweetest whittle face, yes he does. Yes, he does!” The little beagle laps up the attention, licking Patrick’s fingertips through the gate and wiggling his whole body in excitement. The dog is damn cute, and David can’t help but bend down to pet him as well. The beagle tilts his head to lean into David’s touch and he maybe coos a bit himself.

He’s opening his mouth to agree that he’s definitely a contender (better than that bulldog he practically had to drag Patrick away from), when his eyes catch on the name scrawled across the placard on the fence. David snatches his hand back from the dog, hissing “Patrick. No.”

Patrick looks up in confusion, eyes following David’s to the sign and he sighs. “We can change his name, David.”

David scrunches up his nose, aghast. “Well that’s just cruel! He’s had this name for years! That would be so confusing. It’s not his fault I have a shitty association with it.” 

Patrick smiles and shakes his head, giving Sebastian a final pat on the head. “Sorry, buddy. Not today.” The dog whines a little as they move away before barking excitedly at the next group moving through the room. 

“Sorry,” David mumbles as Patrick nudges him to the next stall. “I just...”

“Don’t apologize. We’re just here to look today anyway,” Patrick reminds him, dropping a kiss on his shoulder before bee lining to a boxer across the room. They’ve already discussed that muscular dogs are an absolute no (see: terrifying bulldog), but even David can appreciate a certain majesty in this one.

Making his own way around the stalls, pausing to pet a few dogs along the way and making a note to use copious amounts of hand sanitizer the moment he gets to the car, David is charmed by a number of dogs and the care the attendants seem to give them. He’s squinting to read another dog's little bio when a soft whine from behind pulls his attention. 

He turns, immediately caught by a pair of striking blue eyes.

Quickly glancing at the little placard on her stall, David learns that she’s a Collie/husky mix, though his eyes are drawn back to her before he catches anything else. She’s curled up in the back of her stall, eyeing him warily from a soft looking bed. The thick black fur along her back, fades to brown at her sides and face before becoming white at her belly and nose. She’s gorgeous. 

David creeps across to the stall, slowly crouching in front of the fence and holding his hand out. 

“Hi sweetheart,” he whispers. 

The dog yawns, and turns her head away, but doesn’t take her eyes off of him. 

“Oh, playing hard to get are we?” David smirks. “That’s fine, I can wait.” 

And wait he does. While Patrick continues to shower affection on every dog he sees, David crouches by this gate until the room begins to clear out of potential adopters. After a while he gives up on his pants and actually kneels one the concrete floor. Something about this seems worth it. He pulls out to check his phone, wondering about Stevie’s progress with the cat she definitely won’t get today but will likely come back for. 

Looking at his phone, he’s distracted but only slightly surprised by the cold press of a nose against his hand. Not wanting to scare her off, David allows her to sniff him, not moving until she ducks her head under his hand as if asking for a pet. 

“Oh hello pretty girl,” he grins, only glancing at her out of the corner of his eye. He pets her gently, letting her adjust before reaching to scratch behind her ears. 

Eventually Patrick gets his fill of other dogs and comes to find him. “Well who do we have here?” His eyes widen when he takes in the small beast nuzzling David’s hand.

“Only the sweetest girl in the whole shelter,” David coos. The dog's tail thumps behind her as if in agreement. “Oh and she knows it too! What a smart girl!” 

David doesn’t have to look up to know which smile is on Patrick’s face. 

“David, you’re cooing at a wolf.”

David snorts and glances at his husband, only to be drawn back to the stall when a sharp pair teeth tug gently on his sweater

“Aht aht,” he pulls gently his sleeve from her mouth, glad he anticipated this being a dirty trip and wore long outdated pieces. “Not for you,” he says calmly. When he looks up to Patrick, his husband is staring down at him, eyes wide and mouth agape. 

“What?” He asks. He scratches under the dogs chin, grinning when she turns into him and licks his wrist. 

“David, I think you’re in love.” 

David scoffs. “Please! I am not. I just like her. You’re the one that’s been flitting from dog to dog since we got here. I just needed a place to rest for a while.”

“Mmhmm,” Patrick grins squatting next to him. The dog creeps closer to the gate, looking up at Patrick now too. Her tail begins to wag in honest when Patrick reaches out to pet her nose through the fence. “She is gorgeous.”

“Isn’t she?” David gushes proudly, like he had something to do with it. 

They sit there for another few minutes, petting and sharing small smiles. 

“You know,” Patrick says casually. “We can ask to take her out and get to know a little more.

David shakes his head emphatically. “We said we’re just here to look today.”

“It can’t hurt, can it?”

“I don’t want to get too attached,” David mutters, keeping his eyes on the dog. He could swear she’s batting her eyelashes at him. 

Patrick runs a hand up his back. “It kinda seems like you already are.” 

“She’s bigger than we planned,” David insists like he’s trying to convince himself.

Patrick shrugs. “We have space. What else is that giant backyard for?”

David shakes his head, pulling his lips into his mouth. “I visualized a smaller dog that we could take to the store with us. There’s a perfect spot under the front window for a little dog bed.”

“We can shift that front table over and get a bigger dog bed,” Patrick counters easily. 

“She’ll scare customers?” He’s grasping at straws now.

“With that face?” Patrick teases, turning back to scratch under her chin. “And when has anyone in Schitt’s Creek ever been afraid of anything?”

David sighs.

Patrick presses lightly on the small of David’s back, catching his eye. “What is it? Why are you trying to talk yourself out of this?”

David seems to waffle, turning his head from side to side before slumping his shoulders. “You'd think by now I’d be used to getting everything I needed in a package I never expected. But it’s still a little... jarring sometimes.”

Grinning, Patrick leans over and presses a lingering kiss to David’s cheek. “You’re handling it better than you think.” 

“And I guess it’s always worked out before,” David sighs, leaning back. They both look down at the dog who’s happily licking at the tips of their fingers. 

Patrick stands, running his hand through David’s hair on the way up. “I’m gonna go see if someone can let her out for us.”

David nods, turning back to the sweet girl. 

“Uh, David.” 

“Hmm?” He looks up and Patrick is staring down at him, smirking. 

“Did you catch her name?”

David shakes his head, tilting it to read the name plate above him. 

**~~Mariah~~**

Oh. 

Patrick giggles. “Well then that settles it.” 

* * *

Mariah settles into their lives faster than any of them expected. 

When they brought Stevie in to meet her, she just looked at David and said “Of course you pick a dog that’ll match all your outfits.” She had a point. 

Mariah spends her first few days in the house creeping and poking her head around corners like she’s unsure where she’s allowed to go. After a week she’s racing down the halls and taking up half the space on the couch.

The Roses meet Mariah over FaceTime to varying levels of confusion. Alexis gets excited to buy her little sweaters, which David shuts down with a threat to tweet photos of Alexis’ scene phase. She does send a few black and white plush toys that Patrick makes David accept with grace.

Within weeks Mariah’s claimed her own corner in their living room, bedroom, store and even the motel lobby. She races Patrick on his hikes and trails David on his vendor visits, relishing in their time outdoors and near the farm animals. She howls along when Patrick plays guitar and, to David’s delight, ignores Roland’s attempts to play fetch with the twig pencils they’ve never been able to sell. 

David still finds the whole poop part disgusting but Patrick buys him one of those long range pooper scoopers, and she’s clearly worth it. 

The three of them spend week nights, piled on the couch and weekends in their expansive backyard, around the fire pit with Stevie. David buys her the best human grade food he can find and Patrick slips her hot dogs when he’s not looking and they’re happy. 

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first non-Marvel fic to make it to publishing in A While. I'm still working on these charcter's voices, so please be kind! Lemme know what you think


End file.
